Halfway down a narrow corridor painted all in gray, the guard wrestles with a bulky lock to gain entry to the prison cell. Inside are around twenty young men, sitting on a criss-crossing pattern of metal bunk beds. In the corner of the room, plastic cups and books are stacked up on either side of an old television. Their faces give away that they haven’t been held here for long, although they express it in different ways. Some of them have their heads buried in their hands, some look off into the distance, but most of them look up at their visitors with a lot of self-pity and still a little fe…